Of Trolls and Homecomings Day 3

From Reydala

Revision as of 20:52, 17 May 2011

Of Trolls and Homecomings Day 3

Timeline: 26th of Chiarore

Scene 1: Morning After

Early morning in Leyandra had always been a beautiful sight. The way the sun rose slowly in the sky and shone only a small amount light down upon the world below; just enough to give everything a slight orange glow. It was a sight that Aelthir had in the past described up and down as an experience that everyone needed to experience at least once in their lives. Unfortunately, the beauty of the trees and the grass below the paladin was the last thing in his mind right now.

No, the striking question in the paladin’s mind as he left the bathhouse both cleansed and refreshed, all of his morning rituals complete (including tailoring); was not where he awoke, but how he awoke. Much like a drunkard, discarded in an alleyway, the paladin woke upon the rooftop patio surrounded by empty bottles of ale. Albeit a first in his books, the real issue however was that he did not remember drinking them. In fact, his memories of the night previous were far different than the situation had suggested. As the story told itself in his mind, he recalled watching the city of Allrevan, lit up in a wondrous as it prepared for the upcoming Baequi’via Ball, and annual city festival which began the day after the ball. He recalled Lady Ansr’onna challenge him to armed combat, which he had no choice but to accept. He bled, he burned, but he fought. Someone came out, and told the pair to quit fighting and that’s where the memories stopped.

As the paladin crossed the path toward the manor, he glanced up toward the sun. He estimated it to be around seven in the morning, and thus he sighed in relief. There was plenty of time before the Baequi’via ball tonight; he had to suit everyone up this afternoon and make a couple final adjustments on their attire. Oh, and perhaps telling his comrades about the ball might be important too. He wasn’t sure if he had time to teach them how to basically dance, but he figured no one would complain, lest they get punched out by the giant one. As he walked into the manor through the smaller dining room entrance, used for small meals mainly, he was greeted by the faces of his sister and Katrin who were talking about something in a hushed manner. “Good morning ladies.”

“Ah, good morning, Aelthiria!” Katrin said happily as she motioned for the paladin to sit down beside her. The smirk on her face however was enough to have Aelthir pause for a moment and consider the situation. His sister, and the one said sister thought was married to him, alone in a room, talking. Even though it was the breakfast room; yesterday they were all together, eating and conversing. However, so as to not act too suspicious, he moved to sit beside Katrin and realized there were no plates, as if this morning’s breakfast had not been served yet.

“So yes, dear sister-in-law just finished telling me about how you two ended up together.” Syllae sighed blissfully, as if she had just been told a fairy tale of a knight and his princess. Although, that begged the question of just what had been said, as well as the question he had to ask. “So, is it true?” She asked him suddenly.

“No, it isn’t.” Aelthir said as he shook his head, only to be smacked behind the head by Katrin. “H-Hey, what was that for!”

“You don’t have to be so embarrassed by the story! I mean, seriously. I like the story, and don’t you think your sister is old enough to know such things!? She can’t be coddled forever; she is the head of our family!” Katrin huffed up and crossed her arms. She certainly knew how to act.

Aelthir opened his mouth to say something, and was quickly silenced by the hand of one Syllae to Aelthir’s cheek. “How dare you, Aelthir Baequi’via! You have a wife who loves you, and you sit here and deny the truths that she holds so dear in her heart?!” Syllae glared at Aelthir and slapped him for a second time across the opposite cheek. “And that one was for having a libido the size of Allrevan. You’re a paladin, you should have known self control. She told you that she wasn’t ready to have children yet!”

A third slap and Aelthir’s neck twisted to the right. “That is for leaving your wife to sleep alone last night, while you were passed out on the roof from too many drinks at dinner!” Syllae hissed out before she sat back down. “I should force you back into a school for etiquette. It seems all your time gallivanting around the world has made you forget all your manners!”

Aelthir grumbled under his breath and stood up. “You’re right. My apologies.” He spoke in a sharp tone as he walked to the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go prepare for the ball tonight. Katrin, I expect I’ll see you later for your fitting and adjustment.” He left the room at that. There was still a chance he was being tricked by the duo, as had been such a theme these past few days. His expression held some annoyance and some confusion.

Through various hallways he walked until he saw Vidar and Alis outside with their blades clashing in form, a dance of their own. Also outside was Fal, whom seemed to be acting as an impromptu referee at this moment. The paladin stopped and watched for a moment, as if mesmerized by movements of the two combatants. “Such a difference in size, and yet they wield the same size of blade as scholars hold books and magicians hold wands.” He murmured and stepped outside through the nearest door.

“Yo! Aelthir!” Fal called out as he glanced over to the now approaching paladin. “How’s the hangover treating you?” he called again as Aelthir raised an eyebrow. Wait, Fal too? No, it cannot be. Maybe he heard the dragonborn wrong.

"I am as fit as a fiddle this morning, thank you." Aelthir spoke as he brought his fist to his chest in a form of respect and stopped beside his comrade to watch the continuing combat.

“Really? Damn, man. With how much booze you had, I’m surprised you’re even walking this early, and you’re telling me you don’t even have a hangover? God damn, I wish I had your constitution.” Fal scratched his head.

No, the paladin had heard him right. “I believe you are mistaken. Last evening, I did not drink, I was duelling at midnight. Although, you could call it a sword dance, if you would so prefer.” Aelthir corrected Fal as he tried to remember everything that happened.

“No, dude, you were hammered. No amount of denying it is going to change that and denying the truth is just uncool, bro.” Fal said as Aelthir listened to the clashing metal of the two blades. The way Alis and Vidar were parrying another’s moves perfectly was a sight to behold, a sight that Aelthir could not describe in words at the moment as he watched on. He did, however register Fal’s words and frowned.

“I see… but I recall fighting, and being electrocuted, twice; how can one simulate those physical feelings while drunk!?” Aelthir argued desperately, as if he was holding onto a last thread of hope.

“Bro, haven’t you ever had fantasy dreams?” Fal asked as he smirked. “Dreams of holding onto and caressing a beautiful babe and…” he stopped talking as Aelthir turned red and shot him a glare. “Well, it’s like that. All feelings can be simulated in a dream, if your body knows what that feels like.” Aelthir’s face was blank, already broken in the early morning. One would think he’d have some sort of natural defense by now against this sort of thing, but alas, it was not to be.

“I… I see.” Aelthir coughed and looked away after what seemed like an hour. “And whether I’ve had those sorts of dreams or not is none of your concern, Sir Fal.”

“Of course not, and I’d sooner not know. That sort of thing is just uncool to talk about. I was just giving an example.” Fal shrugged lightly.

“I don’t see what’s to be so worried about, Aelthir. It’s just one night. It’s not like you drink every night and get that plastered, every night. If you did, then we would have a problem.” Vidar spoke up as he and Alis stopped fighting, and the two turned toward the elf.

All that came from Alis was the familiar sound of munching. Aelthir didn’t know what to believe anymore. No matter what they said, he still had this feeling that things weren’t as they were saying and he should doubt them. However, what were the chances everyone was trying to trick him; even Syllae herself!? Well, honestly, fairly high, he figured, but still. All this confused him and he was sure his expression was one of great silliness. One which would make lesser men and women laugh and give away their lie, if it was a lie at least. Oh, he didn’t know anymore. “A-Ah… but I am certain this was not what happened…” he paused and took a deep breath. He shook his head a couple times and then looked to them. “There is a ball tonight, by the way and you all are going. Don’t go too far today, I will need to see each and every one of you for an adjustment on your clothing.”

“You're just telling us about this now?” Fal asked and then looked at Aelthir. “Bro, that's just uncool.”

“Be glad I gave you this much warning. I thought about just grabbing you throughout the day and telling you as I went along. However, I suspect today will be long and busy.” Aelthir spoke, his expression was serious, but his tone gave away his unfaltering confusion. He bit his lip after and then just left as his mind struggled with this. Another moment passed before he shook his head and retreated back inside with the words "I am never drinking again. Dear goddess, I am never drinking again." This was going to be a long day for the paladin.

“I wonder if we’ve gone too far.” Fal said, once Aelthir was back inside.

“He’ll be fine.” Vidar reassured before he pulled out his blade once more, ready for another round of sparring. Alis took a moment to munch a little quicker before she took out her weapon and prepared for the next round as well.

Scene 2: The Family of my Family is my Enemy

It was about ten in the morning when Aelthir and the hired help for the manor were finishing up with the décor for the foyer. As it was the annual Baequi’via ball, normal levels of fabulous were just not enough. A white banner with the Baequi’via crest hung beside a gold banner with the Allrevan coat of arms. All the drapes were replaced with gold coloured silk ones instead of the normal satin. Flowers were also laid around the room for an extra ambiance. Aelthir by now was dressed in a special tailor’s attire. He wore a white silk shirt, with a measuring tape around his neck almost like a scarf, and black silk pants, held up by a black belt. Upon his left sleeve, various sewing needles had been pushed through and tied on. Upon his belt were three gold cases which had different coloured spools of thread inside, as well as more needles.

When Ansr’onna came downstairs for the day, Aelthir inquired about their battle and even she denied that they had fought. At that point, Aelthir just gave up and went about with decorating and the mantra ‘I’m never drinking again’ was repeated many a time over.

“Thank you, Lord Aelthir.” The head butler spoke as he offered his hand to the paladin. This was the same butler who a few short days ago had been glaring daggers at him. “And I’d like to apologize for my behaviour when you arrived. It was not right of me.”

“There’s no need to call me as a Lord. I’m still technically disbarred from the family, so I am nothing more but a travelling paladin. Also, think nothing of the other day. I can see how much trouble you’ve been caused by my arrival. Furthermore, the other day is in the past; let us look to tonight, a night of celebration!” He smiled and shook the butler’s hand.

“Ah, thank you Lord… I mean Aelthir.” The butler smirked back and let go of Aelthir’s hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go perform other duties.” The butler bowed lightly and left the room. Aelthir had things to do as well, but he decided to take a moment to admire the work that he and the workers of the house had managed to complete so efficiently and beautifully. It was almost enough to make his heart go aflutter.

“Ah, servant boy!” a voice spoke from behind him. “We could use some assistance with our luggage!” the voice continued, and Aelthir couldn’t help but think the voice sounded familiar. “Hey! Servant boy, I’m talking to you!”

Aelthir turned around and looked at the young man in front of him. He was alone for the moment, but the luggage behind him suggested that there were at least three others with him. Aelthir knew the young man upon sight; his first cousin, likely his wife, and his aunt and uncle were the others who had come with him. “Ah, I’m sorry Feranes. I’m not with the servants, but if you’ll just wait, I’ll go get one on my way to my work.” Aelthir apologized to the boy and laughed lightly.

The boy simply smirked and dropped his luggage at Aelthir’s feet. “You’re not with the servants? Well, you certainly look like you do. Finally done gallivanting around the world, and decided to come beg for your old life back, have you? You’re lucky that it’s your sister who’s the head of the family and not I. I would have you arrested for even returning here, and I am not the only one who feels that way. If you ever want to get into the good books of the rest of the family, I suggest that you shut your mouth and do as we true Baequi’via say.” The elf said before he spat at Aelthir’s face.

Aelthir merely wiped his cheek off with his hand and took a deep breath. He didn’t say a word. “How pathetic, you know what I say is true, so you do not challenge my words. What a shame to see the so-called great Aelthir reduced to this.” Feranes continued as he swung his fist at Aelthir’s face. Aelthir took the punch right to the left eye and fell back onto the floor. The paladin frowned as he felt the skin around his eye as it already began to swell.

“Quit trying to provoke me, Feranes. You know I will not strike back.” Aelthir answered. “I have no quarrel against you. Just because even though I left, my sister likes me as a person more than she’ll ever like you, is not a reason to try and lower me to retaliate.” The paladin quipped as he continued to sit upon the floor.

“Quit acting better than me.” Feranes spat once more at Aelthir. “You are a coward. You couldn’t handle being the heir to the family, so you willingly broke the rules so you could escape this fate and leave it to your poor sister.”

“You’re wrong.” Aelthir stood up and stared Feranes in the eye. “Your view is flawed to believe only what you want to believe.” He spoke, only to receive another punch to the same eye and send him back to the floor. A moment after, the head butler returned into the room, ready to carry luggage when he saw Aelthir upon the ground.

“Ah! Aelthir, are you alright!?” the butler asked immediately as he moved to Aelthir’s side to help him up and Feranes simply watched.

“I’m fine, sir Dreraan.” Aelthir answered as he took the butler’s hand and stood up. “I tripped and landed face first on the floor. Feranes was just seeing if I was alright. I’d just gotten onto my back.

“Ah, very well sir. If you insist.” The butler Dreraan spoke as he let go of the now standing paladin and moved to Feranes’ luggage. A moment later and with a final glare, Feranes left the room.

Aelthir leaned against a pillar and covered his left eye with his left hand. He needed to get to his room and do something. Get an eye patch or something, at least until he could ask Katrin to heal the swelling. However, first he needed to relax a moment.

Other branch families entered the foyer soon after. One by one they saw Aelthir, stared him down in shock, some with disgust, and then just ignored his very existence. Aelthir simply watched quietly for a moment as this went on. Oh, how he wished to call them all out, but decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and simply sauntered off.